


Almacantara

by valediction



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valediction/pseuds/valediction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(the soul does not sing)</p>
<p>In another world, Claudia flees before Bisley and Cornelia ever even discuss the thought of marriage, and Ludger is born unaware of how much is different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almacantara

Ludger is six when he first starts asking about his father, spurred by the things the other children in his class say about their uncles and aunts and grandpas and nannies while all he knows is his mother and grandfather, but his mother only smiles, changes the subject, and turns a worried expression toward the skyline of Trigleph when she thinks he can’t see. Over the years he imagines grand, fantastic things: his father is an Agent, a high ranking, top secret one, whom no one can know about lest it compromise his identity and family; his father is away on a mission to keep them safe; his father abandoned their family unwillingly, forced away from his mother the maid by disapproving parents, never knowing of the child he’d sired. 

He is thirteen when his mother finally answers him, though what she replies with isn’t any of the things he was expecting.

“You have a brother,” Claudia says, plaiting her hands across her lap. “He should be about seven now. I remember because my sister passed away the same year.” She refrains from bringing a hand to her face to hide the smile that graces it at the confused expression that overtakes her son’s. Ludger has always been an expressive child, even if he didn’t speak much, and she correctly interprets the question in it with an expertise born of years of practice. Instead, that hand trails softly through her son’s hair, provoking puffed up cheeks and an annoyed expression. “Right, I know. You’re old enough, no need to baby you. Why do you think I’m telling you this?

“My sister is his mother, not me. You have the same father. He is not a bad man, but… misguided, perhaps. He’s a very determined person, set on his goals. And he has a very important job, one that doesn’t allow room for much else.” Ludger looks thoughtful at that, enough to forget the hand in his hair. Claudia’s stroking slows, her own thoughts wandering to the scant letters her father had managed to pass between the two of them during her sister’s pregnancy. “I’m afraid your brother must be terribly lonely.”

The thoughtful expression turns first wide-eyed in confusion, then, after a moment, even wider in distress. She takes her eldest’s hands in both of her own. “Ah. I’m sorry, my dearest. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Leans in close, as if relating a precious secret, and murmurs, “It’s just in a mother’s nature to fuss. I’m sure your brother is doing fine. Please put it out of your mind.”

But Ludger can’t not worry after that. All his life he’s had his mother, but his brother hasn’t even had that. 

He doesn’t worry about his absent father anymore.

(Instead, now when he looks around their home for pictures and scraps of letters and bits and pieces of old newspaper clippings, he tries to find anything he can about his aunt instead. Now that he knows what to look for, it isn’t hard.

Her name is Cornelia Wi Bakur nee Kresnik, and he knows it is her because she has the same eyes as his mother. The same smile too, if a little bit more worn.

When his mother is lying on her deathbed a year later, too ill for him to deny that it is anything but, she gives him that same smile. He engraves them both into his memory. 

She says she has something important to tell him, and at first he wonders what could be more important than the secret of the pocketwatches she'd entrusted to him not months ago, but she asks him to promise her something, her request sighed out, to please- if ever he came across his brother, take care of him, make sure he's okay in the way that she couldn't for her own sister. You're a good boy, Ludger, and grandpa will be around to help if you ever need it. I know you can do it.

"You didn't need to ask, mama," he says, smiling through his tears. "I would've done it anyway.")

  


\---

  


That proves easier said than done. For all his determination, Ludger still hasn’t a clue where to start. Well, he does, but when he cannot get too close to the Spirius company for fear of discovery, it tends to complicate matters. And it turns out he has a lot to learn about living on his own, under the radar, though he eases into it surprisingly quickly with his grandfather’s help.

He’d already gotten used to helping with the housework enough while living with his mother, and later in the stages of her illness it was no trouble to pick up a few more chores to ease her burden. Marvin insists on paying the apartment’s rent for a while after the funds Claudia left run out, even though Ludger works odd jobs after school and between idle weapons practice sessions at the edge of town, so it isn’t as if he doesn’t have money. It’s a simple existence, but enough to be comfortable.

He skims the newspapers when he can. Spirius is a big company, and as its CEO, his father routinely makes the headlines. Bisley Karcsi Bakur is the man’s name, widowed, with one child, a shoe-in for heir when it comes time to pass the reins. It’s only the obvious conclusion, which Ludger figures they decided only from bloodline because his brother is rarely ever actually mentioned. 

His father is a tall, broad, heavy-set man with sharp features. Ludger compares him to the pictures he has of his aunt and the memories he has of his mother and wonders what his brother looks like. 

Sometimes his brother has his father’s pale, steely eyes paired with their mothers’ platinum hair framing a soft face; other times, his brother shares the haloed green eyes that Ludger himself has, but otherwise looks nothing like him at all.

  


\---

  


When it happens, it’s a complete accident. Ludger is returning from the edge of town after having completed a few small requests for the people of his apartment building when something thrills down his spine and the blood pounding through his ears sounds impossibly like ticking instead. The watch in his pocket is warm, thrumming, and Ludger’s eyes are wide as he follows its pull to where the city around him seems the least real, his heart in his throat. 

Mother had warned him when he first stumbled into a Trigleph that wasn’t his: you must be careful with this power. You mustn’t let anyone know of it, mustn’t let them use you, she’d murmured, mustn’t let it consume you. It would be best if he never had to use it at all, but sometimes there might be moments where there would be no other choice; this he remembers as his hand closes around the pocketwatch, all but sprinting towards something he doesn’t completely know the nature of.

As quickly as it had warmed, the watch grows cold before he reaches his destination. He rounds another corner, noting at the back of his mind that these alleyways wouldn’t be safe after dark, he should probably find a way back soon, and he’s not sure what he’s expecting but-

What Ludger finds is a wild-eyed, shaking child, staring at his own hands and then around at the alley walls intermittently, like he can’t trust what he sees. His lips keep moving, mouthing strangled, terrified things that Ludger can’t make out in the dimming light. When their gazes meet through the fading remnants of _something else_ that surround the boy, Ludger- Ludger knows for sure.

Carefully, he makes his way toward the boy before kneeling down at his side and offering a hand. They stare toward each other for a long moment, Ludger at, and the child through.

For whatever reason, his brother takes it, and Ludger pulls him into a hug.

(His brother doesn’t fight him as he finds his GHS and removes the battery. He is instead worryingly slack despite the shaking, and Ludger is spurred into a fierce protectiveness. “Hey, it’s okay,” Ludger says. “You’ll be okay, I promise.” 

Taking him home by the hand feels almost like returning a lost child to where they belong. Ludger won’t be happy for the shock, for what his brother must have had to do just before Ludger found him, but- he will be happy for how easily it happens. How easily he manages to usher the child into his apartment, onto his bed and into a bundle of warm blankets, and finally into an exhausted slumber, soft strains of a family lullaby filling the silence.

He remembers how his mother had lulled him to sleep that night. This power is not a gift, she’d said softly between bars, it is an agreement between you and the watch. It takes as much as it gives. I’d hoped you were older when this happened.)

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a nii-san Ludger verse.
> 
> Ludger has no idea what he's gotten into.


End file.
